Baby On The Oregon Trail. Lynna Banning

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      “I’ll take Tess across first,” he announced to Jenna. “Then I’ll come back for Ruthie and Mary Grace.”

      The rain-soaked girls nodded, biting their lips. Mary Grace began to whimper.

      “Hush up,” Tess snapped. “It’s just water. Besides, I’m going first.”

      “Tess, I want you to catch your dress up between your legs, like a split riding skirt,” Lee instructed. When she was ready, he lifted her onto Devil’s broad, wet back and swung up behind her. Then he walked the horse to the riverbank, now shelving off under the onslaught of rain, wrapped an arm around Tess’s middle and turned the animal into the water.

      “Hold on to his mane,” he shouted. “Dig your fingers in deep.”

      The current sucked at them, swirled up around his boots. He kicked Devil hard and they lurched forward. Tess was trembling, but she kept a death grip on Devil’s thick mane. He put his face near her ear. “Don’t let go, no matter what.”

      Her head tipped down in a nod, and the next thing he knew Devil stepped into a rampaging freshet up to his belly. Tess yelped.

      “Hold on!” he shouted.

      Water flooded up to the girl’s knees, then her thighs, but she didn’t let go. Ahead of him Lee saw the other wagons lined up on the opposite bank.

      The horse started to swim but was swept downstream a hundred yards. Sam Lincoln and another man rode along the bank, keeping pace with Devil as he struggled through the raging water.

      At last Lee felt the stallion’s hooves hit solid ground and he dug his heels into the animal’s sides. The bank was a slurry of mud, slippery as molasses. Twice the horse tried to heave its body up onto dry land, and twice he floundered.

      Tess began to gulp noisy sobs. On the third try, Devil lurched up onto the bank, and Sam and someone else, Ted Zaberskie, standing ankle-deep in mud, reached to grab Tess. She tumbled off into Sam’s arms.

      “Wait!” Sam shouted to him. “Lee, don’t go back across.”

      Lee shook his head. “Jenna and the young ones are back there, plus the wagon.” He reined back into the river without looking back.

      The return trip was easier. He mounted Ruthie tight against him, then snugged Mary Grace in front and wrapped his arms around them both. Jenna gave the two girls a wobbly smile and stood back, her arms clasped across her waist, to watch them go. Her face was white with fear, and suddenly Lee wanted to kiss her. Instead, he started back across the river.

      This time the river seemed less wild, or maybe he was just getting used to it. Mary Grace cried all the way across, but Ruthie maintained a stoic calm until they reached Sam and Zaberskie on the other side. Sam lifted Mary Grace off the horse and slogged up to where Tess stood, wringing her hands; Ruthie threw her little arms around Ted Zaberskie’s neck and wouldn’t let go.

      The downpour increased. Hell, if the river rose any higher, the wagon would never make it. He swam the stallion back across to Jenna, who stood with the rain pounding down on her head and shoulders, calling something up to him.

      “Wagon!”

      “No,” he shouted. “You next.”

      She pointed to herself, then cupped her hands and yelled back. “Go with wagon. You drive. Devil swim across.”

      That was one smart woman, he thought. She was right. If he didn’t get the wagon across now, they would be stranded on this side with no shelter and no food.

      He dismounted and slapped Devil’s rump, hard. The animal trotted down the bank and splashed into the river; with a knot in his gut, Lee watched him start to swim.

      He couldn’t afford to lose that horse. But right now he had other things to worry about. He grabbed Jenna around the waist, pushed her up onto the driver’s box and climbed up after her. While she covered them both with his rain poncho, he unwound the reins and flapped them over the oxen.

      Jenna slipped one arm around his middle, and he had to laugh. Did she think she could keep him from floating off the box? He shook the traces, and then they were rattling down the bank into the rain-swollen water.

      Almost immediately the wagon hit deep water and started to lift off the bottom. Still, Sue and Sunflower plowed inexorably forward until they were chest-high in muddy river water.

      Jenna’s arm tightened around him. It would feel great if he had time to relish the moment. But he didn’t.

      Ahead of them he watched Devil’s dark neck drifting downriver.

      “Got a whip?” he shouted.

      She shook her head.

      Well, hell. He needed something to urge the team on, a stick, a goad, anything. Should have thought to cut some willow switches. He yanked off his hat and swatted at their broad rumps, letting loose with some swearwords he hadn’t realized he knew.

      And then the current caught them broadside and swept the wagon downriver.

       Chapter Seven

      The wagon slewed sideways, and Jenna bit back a scream. A surge of terror rolled through her. The weight pulled the oxen off balance, and no matter how much Lee shouted and slapped at them with his sodden hat, the animals had to struggle to keep their footing.

      Suddenly he ripped off the poncho and slapped the thick leather reins into her hands. “Hold them tight,” he yelled.

      He jumped down off the box into the river and fought his way through waist-deep water until he reached the oxen. He gripped the side of Sue’s wooden yoke and half pushed, half pulled the animal toward the riverbank.

      The reins jerked and bucked in Jenna’s hands, but she resolved she would not let go. With Lee urging them on, Sue and Sunflower stumbled forward to a place where the bank flattened out and the exhausted animals heaved their heavy bodies up onto level land. The wagon splashed up behind them and ground to a stop just as Sam stepped forward to grip the harnesses.

      Inexplicably Jenna thought of the flour barrel. Had it gotten wet? Was their bedding dry? She sat with her head down, unable to move, until she heard a voice at her side.

      “You can let go now, Jenna.” Lee reached up and pried her fingers off the reins. Shaking, she inched across the driver’s box and put one foot on the iron step. Her knees turned to mush. She grabbed for the brake handle, then felt strong arms scoop her up.

      At that moment the sun broke through. Rainbows arched in the distance, beautiful wide bands of color shimmering through the mist. Lee set her down in front of Emma Lincoln, who handed her a tin cup of something. “Drink it up, dearie. You earned it.”

      Jenna gulped down a swallow and choked as something fiery slid past her throat. “Whiskey,” the older woman explained. “Warms your cockles.”

      It certainly warmed something. After two more gulps she decided she liked the effect.

      “The girls are drying off in our wagon,

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